


Not This Time

by AnnieAnnProps



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Communication, Emotional, F/F, NSFW, Pharmercy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 12:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8623939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieAnnProps/pseuds/AnnieAnnProps
Summary: Usually Fareeha is all for games, all for being challenged and tested and ultimately finding how far she can push herself. But this time it's different. And Angela is okay with that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know i should be working on a couple other things, but thanksgiving break is here and i am celebrating with stay up until i write something. Between the semester winding down and another show i’m propping about to open, it’s been due time that i write.
> 
> I have been writing the next chapter of At the Seams, for those who follow that, and i swear it’s big and complicated and oof. Hi.
> 
> So yes, here be go with a work inspired by a post (https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/lewdsalt/150832163540) made by LewdSalt. Cheers.
> 
> omg, i always find ways to make thing emotional, like, how does this even happen, it just fucking does. No simple rump around here, have some character development and analysis and fuck, it’s interesting, usually making me ask ‘why the fuck am i like this’. But hey, adds depth, so have some deep smut, mates.

 

“Winston informed me that you wanted to see me?” Angela’s face snaps up from the paperwork strewn across her desk. Not strewn, no, her days of haphazard piles of reports had been forcibly pounded out of her after finding multiple file missing during her early days of Overwatch. 

But one glance at the barely organized stacks and that notion is shattered, and just like one look at Angela’s flushed face upon seeing Fareeha stepping into her office in nothing but a sports bra and workout shorts is a clear indication of failed attempt of beating a different habit. 

“Ja, one moment please.” She shakes the thought from her head, quickly trying to finish whatever she was writing down before the woman had walked in with her blasted voice and charming smile and exhilarating smell and-

Angela sighs, setting her glasses down onto her desk. It’s no use trying to fight against it now. Her train of thought now derailed and all she can think about is Fareeha waiting patiently in front of her. Pushing her chair back, she stands and motions Fareeha to follow her to the examination bench.

“I noticed your strides were uneven during our last mission,” her entire face flushes at the memory of what she was  _ actually _ doing when she notice the slight limp in Fareeha’s gait. Armor or not, certain assets are worth giving more than just a once over. 

The moment she turns around, Angela is greeted with a smug smirk and a chuckle. 

“Are you sure that was the only thing you were noticing,  **_ya amar_ ** _?” _  The game is up only a few moves in, Fareeha the ever observant having picked up on the ceaseless blush now spreading down Angela’s neck. 

With every step closer, Angela takes another step back and back until she strikes the edge of the padded table. How her blue eyes a beginning to become lidded ever so slowly, her breath quickening, her voice rising in pitch. Fareeha can pick all these things out because **_by god_** she doing the same things herself. 

Fareeha stops half a meter away, hands on her hips still with her cocky smile. 

“As you can see, my walk is just fine.” She does a little turn around, feeling Angela’s eyes roam over her body. It was a conscious choice to stay in her workout clothes when she decided to look into the request of her audience. Fareeha takes one of Angela’s hands, making sure guide it and not force it onto her hip. “Unless you would like to do a closer, physical examination,  **_doctor_ ** _.” _

Angela swallows thickly at how the usually business word sensually rolls off of Fareeha’s tongue. How does she do that; a soldier who is reserved and awkward around strangers that magically transforms into a charm factory that occasionally pumps our dreadly awful puns. 

But in a sudden moment, Angela snaps out of the entrancement at the question. She presses her fingers into the skin until they are stopped by the bone lying under the sharp cut of Fareeha’s hip. A smirk of her own sneaks its way onto her lips. 

“Maybe I would.” Angela pulls Fareeha in, a pulse of satisfaction beats through her at Fareeha’s surprised gasp. 

With a light shove, Angela pushes Fareeha off of her, earning another confused look from the woman. 

“I would like you to demonstrate a squat for me.” It’s comical how indignant the noise that comes from Fareeha’s throat is. She just watches Angela, waiting for her to break face and skip this absurdity. “Feet shoulder width apart, hands behind your head, dear.” 

No, Angela wasn’t fucking joking. 

Fareeha lets out a chuckle to hide the tingling electricity scampering up her spine. She worked out in front of people at the gym plenty of times, this should not be any different. But Angela’s gaze; mocking yet hungry, smug and expectant. Fareeha can feel her body heating up and she hadn’t even started the exercise. 

Feet shoulder width apart

Hands clasped behind her head

“Good girl.” A cacophony of emotions stir to life within Fareeha’s gut. It hasn’t been too long since they started this sort of powerplay a couple of weeks ago. But there’s something about today, something about this moment that...just doesn’t sit right. 

“Angela.” Fareeha hesitates, coming up from the stance. No, the heat between her legs isn’t gone, in fact, it throbs even hotter upon seeing the look of genuine concern come over Angela’s face. 

The mood isn’t gone, just shifted in the uttering of a single word. 

“Is everything alright?” no bite, no hint of jesting. Angela walks over to Fareeha and cups her cheek into her hand but Fareeha averts her eyes with embarrassment rushing to her face. 

How could she tell Angela, she didn’t want to disappoint-

“Fareeha.” Her gaze comes up, fearful to fail, to be unable to deliver. “ _ Liebling.”  _ And her eyes finally focus. Angela’s eyes full of warmth, of understanding, no pressure and no guilt. 

The weight doesn’t not lift completely off of Fareeha’s throat, but it eases with her shallow breaths.

Fareeha rushes forward, capturing Angela’s lips in her own. She was never all too good with words, at least ones not of playful flirtations. A woman of action, and so she pours everything she can’t say into the kiss and things that she can’t quite put into words. 

_ I’m sorry _

Angela’s hands snake across the expanse of bare skin on the small of Fareeha’s back. She rises up and presses her lips against the corner of Fareeha’s mouth. 

_ It’s alright _

“We don’t have to this time.” Angela whispers, holding her face close, eyes studying Fareeha for the tiny little cues. It was difficult at first to read the woman, even with her background in psychology, sociology and the such. 

For a soldier who easily led others into battle with sound decisions and a calm head. Yet when it came down to Fareeha expressing her emotions and being able to  **_ask_ ** for what she wanted. A breath, a pause, Fareeha is considering her words before allowing them to take flight into the air. 

“I would still like to.” Fareeha trails off, sliding her hands onto the swell of Angela’s ass, hoping that the gesture is enough. 

Angela smiles, nodding slightly and a rush of relief threatens to drown Fareeha. 

“Ja.” The word is breathlessly spoken, the hands on Angela giving a slight squeeze. “Just not the powerplay?”

Fareeha nods, a bit more confidently this time, and Angela kisses her again.

“Thank you for telling me, Fareeha.” In a swift move, Angela slips her hands past the waistband of Fareeha’s shorts onto her ass, relishing in the bare skin she finds compared to the fabric of her slacks that Fareeha is holding. “And I would like the same.” 

The lust in Fareeha’s mind comes to the forefront once again with the dragging of nails across her backside. Her hands shift down, fingers splaying wide to spread the weight before Fareeha hoists Angela up and begins to walk back to the examination table. 

Now this close, she can’t stop looking at Angela’s brilliant eyes, the rise and fall of Angela’s chest and collarbones exposed by a shirt unbuttoned one button more than what would be considered ‘business appropriate’. For her, Fareeha finally lets herself believe; Angela is doing this for her. 

Fareeha lifts Angela onto the padded surface of the examination bench, feeling legs instantly come around and wrap around her waist. Even through the pants Angela is wearing, Fareeha can feel the heat of her sex pressing around her stomach. 

Their eyes slide closed, using their hands and lips to roam and explore rather than their eyes. Fareeha kisses whatever skin her lips land upon and hears the rush of Angela’s breathing against her ear as her fingers work to undo Angela’s shirt. With the lack of sight, every touch becomes a beacon in the darkness that sparks down onto tinder eager to catch flame. 

Finally, Fareeha’s hands reach the bare skin of Angela’s stomach. She can feel every ripple of her muscles when Angela groans and leans into the touch. She brings her mouth down, trailing wet kisses in her wake. Blunt teeth nibble at the underside of Angela’s jaw, gently tugging and sucking. Down, down to her throat where thick, quivering breaths are drawn just under the surface. 

Where she sucks hard enough to leave a mark, fingers tangle into her hair, and a her name is groaned almost inaudibly. Fareeha smooths the spot over with a few broad strokes of her tongue, she doesn’t need to see it now to know that she’ll be seeing it angry and red later. 

And down further where Fareeha presses kisses as soft as the flesh she finds. She buries her face between Angela’s breasts, knowing full well that it tickles her but Angela’s delighted giggles are music to her ears. With the help of both of them, the shirt is shrugged off and Fareeha brings her hands around her back to unclasp Angela’s bra with practiced ease. 

Fareeha opens her eyes but Angela’s remain closed, head thrown back in a silent gasp of pleasure. She watches Angela as she takes a stiff nipple into her mouth. The warm metal of Angela’s barbell piercing feeling lovely against her tongue. Angela shudders against her, hand back in her hair tugging her forward. With every suck and graze of teeth, Angela bucks against Fareeha, half-formed words spilling out from her mouth. 

“Mmmm,  _ Fareeha _ .” Angela’s eyes crack open, peering down and lungs catching at the sight of Fareeha staring back up at her; her lips curling into a smirk while still sucking on her breast. The nipple leaves Fareeha’s mouth with a lewd ‘pop’.

“Move back, **_ya amar.”_** With a hand on Angela’s stomach, gently eases Angela backwards to make enough room for her to hop onto the table as well. 

Hands on either side of her face pull Fareeha up for another kiss once she makes it up. Her own hands going down to fumble with the fly of Angela’s pants. After a couple of tries, Angela chuckles against her lips.

“Let me get that for you.” Angela says husky and low, never breaking eye contact as she urges Fareeha’s hands away and begins to undo her pants. 

A glance down proves to be Fareeha’s mistake as she finds herself unable to look anywhere else. Teasing jerks of her hips, Angela slowly shimmies out of her slacks and undergarments. Fareeha can see how aroused Angela is by the small damp spot on her panties before the clothing is tossed aside. 

“I do hope you don’t plan on just watching, dear.” 

“No,” Fareeha swallows thickly, tearing her gaze away to smirk up at Angela. “No I don’t.” 

Fareeha returns to her spot at the peak of Angela’s breast, eager to watch her reactions as she swirls her tongue around her nipple. She catches the piercing every couple of circles, presses a kiss before moving on, moving lower, moving slowly and deliberately. 

Her fingers smooth over Angela’s goose-bump riddled thigh, to the inside of it and finally settling on teasing the outer fold of her snatch. A small tuft of hair sits on the mound but Angela has taken great care to trim the area closest. Little stops the wetness quickly coating Fareeha’s fingers. 

“Do you want my fingers inside, Angela?” Fareeha pulls her face back, keeping her hand still until a response is given. 

“Yes.” Angela groans out, almost impatient. She brings her hips up, briefly making contact with her against the palm of Fareeha’s hand. “ _ Ah, yes!”  _

And so Fareeha complies, slipping two fingers into the slick heat with ease. In an instant, Angela lifts her hips up, walls clenching tight and back arching. The pace starts off slow. Fareeha’s fingers curl, carefully looking for-

“Fareeha! There, right-” The rest melts into a mess of muttered curses and words. 

With ruthless precision, Fareeha works past the ache starting to settle into her wrist to keep thrusting against the spot that has made Angela lose the ability to breath and speak properly. She listens closely, every sound pouring out is a testament to the pleasure she is bringing to the woman she loves, to the glowing swell of pride growing in her chest. 

Suddenly, there are footsteps in the hallway outside, some muted voices and Fareeha clamps a hand over Angela’s mouth. 

“Shhh,” Fareeha brings her face right up to Angela’s. They lock eyes briefly before Angela closes her’s and struggles to keep her moans quiet. There’s a certain thrill, while they both know the room is relatively soundproof, there’s always that chance, that possibility…and it’s fucking intoxicating. 

“Hey Trace, wait up, I gotta give the doc something.” Lucio and Lena, of course it’s the two loudest people in Overwatch at the door.

She has half a mind to stop but Angela’s eyes open again filled with lust and pleading. So close, her moans vibrate through Fareeha’s arm, to chest and tighten around her throat. So close and fareeha isn’t one to leave a job unfinished. 

“Ah, don’t think she’s awake mate. Angela don’t close her door unless she’s sleeping, better wait ‘til the morning, yeah?” Fareeha can’t help but snort back a laugh at how sheepish Lena sounds. Of course Lena has had the wonderful experience of bursting into the med-bay and leaning the **_other_** reason as to why Angela might have her door closed. 

“Fine by me, I’m just gonna slip it under for her to find then, Pharah’s got me running that thing first thing in the morning remember?” 

A rustle of paper and then the voices begin to fade away. Fareeha’s about to crane her head and see what Lucio had slid under the door when Angela beings to roll her hips onto Fareeha’s hand and stomach. 

Angela’s high whines are barely muffled by Fareeha’s hand now. Everything pulls tight, her hips lift clear off the table by the rapidly dwindling strength of Angela’s thighs. She digs her fingers into Fareeha’s forearm, the hand clamped over her mouth finally peels away.

“Fareeha.” She moans, her eyes screwing shut and mouth falling open with labored sighs and pants. “Fareeha, Fareeha,  _ Fareeha!”  _

Her entire body snaps taut against Fareeha’s front. The finger’s in Angela’s snatch don’t stop moving, thrusting, coaxing out wave after wave of pure bliss that rocks the foundation of her mind. Everything is blank but the heat of Fareeha’s body against hers, the rippling of her muscles, and the eyes that she see’s once Angela musters up enough strength to open hers. 

Love. Pure, unadulterated love. 

The tremors slowly subside, the jerking of her hips easing down to a pleasant buzz that envelopes Angela’s body. 

“Relax or you’re going to start cramping.” Fareeha coos, bringing Angela’s attention back down from the clouds. She’s reminded of the high arch her back is in and wills herself to relax the stiff muscles. 

Angela’s heated skin instantly begins to stick to the vinyl surface of the bench but that’s one of the lowest things on her list of priorities. She runs her fingers into Fareeha’s locks, tugging her down for a kiss. It’s sluggish, lazy, but leaves them smiling by the end of it. Angela moves her hand to the waistband of Fareeha’s shorts but she catches it before the can slip under. 

It’s brought up to Fareeha’s lips where she places a kiss on each of the knuckles before she sags down and settles half on top of Angela.

“Rest, Angela. We have all night.” 

Angela smiles, watching Fareeha out of the corner of her eye, feeling the beating of her heart against her chest. 

All night

That she could do


End file.
